Love is a Four Letter Word
by Side Project
Summary: Love is a cuss word. Or at least thats how Draco sees it. He changes over the summer, and discovers something dangerous. Draco centered fic. Slash, DM/HP
1. Making the cut

Title: Love is a Four Letter Word

Author: Side Project

Contact: sideproject@hotmail.com or on AIM soccerchic 15673

Archive: ff.net and my site whenever I get it up. If you want it, ask. It also appears under my other screen name. Soon to disappear from there though. This is another version. A better one.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/ Harry Potter

Rating: As of now- R. I might get myself around to NC-17

Spoilers: Basic HP knowledge. 

Author Notes: This story is about Draco, keep that in mind. This also contains cutting, and general angst. Oh, and a BIG BIG HUGE THANK YOU to Erif for beta-ing, and Jen for giving me her input as well. *blah* indicates thought, and blah are Draco's flash back.

*          *            *

Chapter One: Making the cut.

*          *            *

Deep green velvet curtains rippled in the wind, flowing through the open balcony doors. The wind threatened the burning candles, causing the candlelight to dance along the walls. The trembling flame caused an eclipse in the dark room, blurring the thin line between light and dark. There was no black or white here...just grey. And all touched by it were tainted. It sent a chill up Draco's back. 

He was cold, frozen inside. Nothing could warm the bitter coldness that lived in him. It had been a part of him for so long- this darkness… he could never hope to be free of it… His soul was like the wind, threatening any light that dared to save him. Thus, he lived in darkness, relishing in its control over the light… its control over him. 

Physical pain, oh he could deal with that. But he could not deal with this other emotional hurt… this anger… hate… depression. He knew he should be used to it, he had been dealing with it for his entire life. But unlike physical pain, he never learned how to enjoy the mental anguish that lived inside of him. If only it was pain. The blood, the cutting- he loved it, relished in its simplicity. 

Draco licked his lips as his hand lowered the razor onto his tender flesh. Drops of red rose up as he pressed the sharpness deeper into his skin. A moan passed between his lips. The blood flowed onto his unmarked flesh like a melody; it was a song to save his soul. Never in his life had he known true pleasure, this was his drug, a temporary ecstasy. True, there was no black or white, but the grey was more than satisfying. It was all he needed. The blood ran down his ribs and into his red stained white sheets. He had ruined more than his fair share of bedding. It was a wonder the house elves never mentioned it to his parents. He ran his hand through it, his fingertips tainted red… this was his life… and it was bleeding out of him… 

Looking for another unscarred spot, Draco positioned the razor on the top of his leg. He pushed in, and went a little deeper than he wanted. The blood rushed out in waves, running over his leg and soaking into the sheets. 

"We hurt ourselves on the outside in order to kill the demon within," Draco recited to himself. He couldn't remember where he'd heard it, but the quote rang true for him. He looked down at his bleeding leg. It wasn't enough. The demon inside was still alive. Eating him from the inside out.

Ignoring the blurriness in his eyes, Draco pushed the blade into his upper arm. It burned, but he continued to cut. He made another cut parallel to it, pushing a little deeper. Blood coursed down his arm. He ran his hand through it. The white sheets were slowing turning dark red. Panic set in, and the world got a little fuzzy. He raised his hands in front of his face; they were covered in a slick layer of blood. Droplets fell and splattered on his stomach. Draco groped the bedside table for his wand. He had to stop the bleeding… the cuts were too deep… He felt his body go weak. He couldn't find his wand… The demon was dying, as was he.

But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

The dizziness seized him in full force. He trembled, and wondered briefly if the house elf would find him in time. He could just imagine his dad's reaction to a dead son… "How very disappointing. Now I'll have to have another." He didn't matter to anyone. Not to his parents and not to himself. 

Most people where scared of the dark, because they didn't know what was hidden within it. Draco was afraid of the light because he knew what it held. He could deal with the physical pain, the dark. But light revealed something he could not handle. 

*          *            *

Draco clenched his eyes shut, feeling sick. The Hogwart's Express jerked forward, which did nothing to help his stomach. He pulled his robes tighter around himself, despite the heat of the day. He had been lucky enough to find an empty compartment in the very back of the train. No Pansy, no Goyle, and no Crabbe… thank god. The silence was welcomed… 

"Alone?"

Draco looked up and sneered, "I could ask the same of you, Potter. Why are you bothering me?"

Harry shrugged and sat down. How dare he sit! "Everywhere else is full. I can't really sit in the aisle."

"Just don't talk to me."

Harry rolled up his sleeves, "Where's the fun in that?"

"Potter, I'm not in the mood to deal with your stupidity."

"Our last year… I never thought I'd make it this far."

"Go away. I don't want to hear you talk, let alone carry a conversation! Where are your friends, can't you go sit with them?" Draco said through clenched teeth. He wanted his silence back.

"Where are your friends?"

"Hell if I know. I want to be alone, that's why I am in the back of the train. I had successfully scared everyone away from this compartment, because I want to be left alone. Now scat!"

Harry sighed, and said nothing, but made no move to leave. Draco groaned. This was going to be a very long year indeed.

*He's cute when he gets angry.*

"What did you say, Potter?"

Harry looked up, "I haven't said a word."

"I could have sworn I heard you say something!"

"Settle down, you must be hearing things."

"Oh sod off."

Left one hell, and entered another. 

*          *            *

Draco pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and slouched down as far as he could in an attempt to disappear. Despite his best efforts, the bodyguards his father appointed had reattached themselves to Draco. Crabbe and Goyle seemed upset that he had somehow eluded them on the train. He wished he could avoid them for the rest or the year. The Sorting Ceremony went on without being noticed by Draco. He closed his eyes and let the world pass him by without a thought. Not even the cheers of his own house awoke him from his state. Nothing fazed him. He felt like a silent observer. One to who time meant nothing. He was a background prop. He was nothing.

Dinner appeared suddenly. This was his golden opportunity- he could escape to bed now and avoid being force into conversation… Draco pushed his hood back, and made a move to stand when he caught Potter's eye. The other boy had a thoughtful expression on his face. He looked away as soon as he realised Draco was staring back. 

"That boy has problems," Draco muttered to himself, and stood up. What was with Potter this year? The muggles must have landed him one too many blows to the head. 

A sharp voice caught him just as he reached the door, "Draco, a moment please?"

Groaning inwardly, he nodded. "Of course Professor Snape." 

"Dumbledore wishes to have a word with you this evening. Do you know where is office is?"

"Of course. I'm only in my seventh year," Draco said, not meaning for his words to come out as harshly as they did. His sarcasm was an ingrained habit; although he usually toned it down around his head of house. 

"The password is gumdrops. Around seven if you could," Snape said.

"Yes, Sir."

*          *            *

Draco knocked.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, do come in."

Draco opened the door to Professor Dumbledore's office. Without even being offered, he sat down across from the head master. He might try to make polite with Snape, but the headmaster? Forget it. 

"How was your summer, Draco?" the old man asked, his eyes twinkling as they had a tendency to do when he had some scheme up his sleeve.

"My father owled you, didn't he?" Draco said, his words were sharp, vindictive.

"He did.How would you feel about having your own room this year?" Dumbledore asked.

"I thought that sort of privilege was reserved for prefects," Draco stated. He did not like handouts, and that's all this was… or maybe a bribe? 

"Usually…" Dumbledore replied slowly, thinking of how to explain.

Draco nodded and lowered his eyes. Draco! What have you done Draco? What have you done? How could you? Why? Why? Talk to me… Oh god… Please don't die! Lucius! Get in here and save your son…

"I'm perfectly fine," Draco said forcefully. Ungrateful brat. 

"That was never a question. There is no doubt in my mind that you will never resort to anything like what happened over the summer while you're here. I merely thought an… escape from your housemates might be welcomed," Dumbledore said, the twinkle returning.

"Does that mean you're not putting me under watch?" Never again. I'll watch you ever moment myself if that's what it takes. How could you do this to your mother and me? Haven't we done enough? How could you hurt us like this? How could you do this to me? Are you trying to punish me?

"No, like I said, I don't think there will be a recurrence." 

"The room will be totally private?"

"I'll even like you make up your own password."

"Why?" Draco asked bluntly, lifting his eyes to the old man. He had never been kind, what had he done to deserve this?

"I simply thought you might enjoy some extra privacy."

He bloody well knew there was more too it, but he also knew better than to look the gift horse in the mouth. Besides, he trusted the senile headmaster than his own father.

"Thank you for the offer. When can I move in?" Draco asked. 

*

The room was bigger than his room at home; it even had its own bathroom. The only reason Draco had to leave was to eat… and go to class the latter taking up more of his time than he liked. Draco tossed his clothes aside and made his way over to the bed clad only in his boxers. He climbed in, curling up deep within the cocoon of blankets. His own warmth wrapped around him, and for the first time, in a long time, he felt safe and secure. This was going to be one hell of a year. At least he wasn't under watch… He'd spent almost the entire summer at St. Mungo's… Suicide watch.

It was funny really… Draco hadn't been attempting suicide. If it had been suicide, he would be dead; if that had been his wish, there would have been no stopping him. No, he simply got a little carried away with his obsession. He wondered if anyone knew where he'd spent his summer. No… no one knew. No one…

But then again…the way Potter had been looking at him made Draco wonder… What if Potter knew? Not that it would matter if he knew; Potter was to much of a hero. He'd keep it secret and feel like a saviour for not letting rumours fly about. It was just the sort of thing he'd do. 

Draco starred at the ceiling. The chill inside him had yet to be vanquished. There had to be a way to free himself of this… He was tired of it…Worse came to worse… he'd let his obsession take him… One way, or another this was going to end.


	2. Do you have what it takes?

**Title: Love is a Four Letter Word**

**Author: Side Project**

**Contact: sideproject@hotmail.com or on AIM: blckblood69**

**Archive: ff.net and my site. [http://www.geocities.com/side_project312]**

**Pairing: Draco Malfoy/ Harry Potter**

**Rating: As of now- R. I might get myself around to NC-17**

**Spoilers: Basic HP knowledge. **

**Author Notes: This story is about Draco, keep that in mind. This also contains cutting, and general angst. _*blah* indicates thought, and __blah are Draco's flash back._**

**Chapter Two: Do you have what it takes?**

Draco woke, slightly confused. For a moment, he couldn't understand why he wasn't in his canopy bed with the dark green velvet curtains keeping the sun out. He squinted his eyes, and tried to focus. First day… Yawing as he stretched, Draco climbed out of bed. 

He pulled his robe over his head, more than anything he wished he didn't have to go to breakfast. It meant facing questions that he wasn't ready to answer. 'Where were you this summer?' 'Why aren't you in our dorm this year?' But there was no point in delaying the inevitable. The questions would be asked whether he went to breakfast now, or later. There was no way he'd escape talking to his fellow housemates the entire school year, although it didn't prevent him from wishing he could.****

With a small sigh of regret, he left his room, and walked down to breakfast. The hall was already packed when Draco walked in. He made his way over to the Slytherin table, avoiding any eye contact. Maybe they wouldn't notice him… then he could just sit at the end of the table, eat and get out. 

"Draco! Come sit by me. I saved you a place, and Snape gave me your class schedule!" Pansy called. 

So much for going unnoticed. This was going to be a long year indeed. He sat beside Pansy snatching his timetable from her grubby paws. He looked over his classes, grimacing.  

"Damn it all," he swore. He was going to have to spend almost the entire day with the Gryffindors. It was enough he had to deal with people like Potter during meals, but throughout the day as well… It wasn't fair…

_*He looks older, wiser. Something is different about him.*_

Draco looked up. Potter was staring again, and he could have sworn he heard him talk. "Just my imagination," he muttered to himself. It was just his own worries that someone might find what happened over the summer. Silly really, he knew his father had kept everything 'quiet'.

*          *          *

"This year we are going to be working on some of the most dangerous potions, which are also going to be very difficult. For some of you it will be child's play. For others… You will be testing all of your potions on yourselves, so pray you don't create something that kills," Snape said, glaring at Neville.  

Draco smirked. Neville wasn't much of a wizard and it was a wonder the poor boy was still in school. If he had placed a bet, he would have said that Longbottom would have only lasted a week. He had to be almost squib; it couldn't be possible for a wizard to be that bad at magic.

"Not only will the potions be difficult, but almost all of them will require two people to work together. I have taken the liberty of assigning everyone partners."

*Malfoy... He always teams me up with Draco...* 

Draco lifted his eyes, and glanced over at Harry. The boy was staring again. What was with Potter this year? 

"Miss Parkinson and Miss Granger"

"Crabbe and Mr. Weasley."

"Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter." 

The year just got longer. A hell of a lot longer...

Once Snape had finished, everyone reluctantly moved beside his or her new partner.  Since Draco had made no attempt to move, Harry sat down beside him. "A few ground rules, Potter," Draco said, not even looking at Harry, "Stop staring. Next, don't talk to me. I'll tell you what to do, just nod if you understand, no touching me either. You do your own work; I won't do it for you, I won't save your ass like Granger does." 

"One question… If I may?"

"What Potter?"

"What does it take to melt that wall of ice you have built between you and the rest of the world?" Harry asked. 

Draco felt the blood rush to his cheeks, "I told you not to talk to me. One more word and I'm asking for another partner."

_*Stupid! Stupid! You should have kept your mouth shut.*_

"Yes, you should have."

Harry's jaw dropped. He looked as if he'd been slapped.  "Did I say that out loud?"

Draco groaned at Potter's stupidity but said nothing. Snape had started lecturing, so he took out his parchment, and tried to concentrate on taking notes. It was hard with Potter looking at him like he was. What _was his problem?_

Later that evening, Draco decided that asking for a new partner was an idle threat. After all, there were worse people to be teamed up with.

*          *          *

It was late. Draco rolled over in bed, trying to get comfortable, but whatever he did he was always either too hot, or too cold. The sheets seemed to cling to his body, and no matter what way he lay it bothered him. Not only that, he was tired and angry, and more than anything he wanted to cut… Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel the cool blade in his skin… He could taste the blood on his tongue… He needed to cut… When the blood was flowing, Draco felt at peace with himself. He could deal with anything. When he cut, he could bleed away the pain.

The need was eating away at him, and Draco knew he couldn't fight the addiction much longer. He had spent most of the summer without it, but only because he had been tied down to a bed. The few times he'd tried to cut, someone had always caught him before he could get into it. Since he had been back to school he hadn't cut at all, but seeing as how this was only his third day back…

His father still thought he had been trying to kill himself. Draco had just laughed in his face, and told him the idea was idiotic. If had really wanted to kill himself he would have done it properly. A muggle gun, or poison… there were even a few dark spells that he knew could do the job. Committing suicide by cutting was just too messy, and it took much too long. 

Draco clicked on the lamp beside his bed, and reached for the small razor. He let it lay in the palm of his hand. The metal reflected the light, shining it back into his eyes. 

"No," he said sternly, strong enough to make himself obey. He was going to resist as long as he could. Dumbledore had faith in him, so how hard was it to have a little faith in himself? 

Draco climbed out of bed, and pulled a pair of jeans on from off the floor. He pulled his robe on, and slipped his wand into his pocket. All he really needed was a walk to clear his head. 

*          *          *

Draco found himself in one of the eastern towers. It was quiet and secluded… And all his… He opened up one of the balcony doors, and just let the night air blow in. It was so relaxing, that Draco laid his head back, feeling more at peace here than he had anywhere else.

_*What is he still doing up?*_

Jerking his head up, he looked around the room. "Potter if you're here, so help me, I'm going to kill you."  'Why did he **_always have to ruin things for me? I hate him.'_**

*He must have heard me… Late at night, and Draco is all alone… But he's mad… but who knows when I'll get another chance like this…*

"Go to hell Potter."

The invisibility cloak dropped, "'Ello to you too. How did you know I was here?"

"I just did. Leave."

"I'd like to talk to you…" Harry said, ruffling his hair nervously. He had that ravished little boy look… It was almost cute… 

"Fine, then I'll leave!" Draco said getting up. He brushed past Potter, their shoulders clashing.

"About this summer…"

He stopped, frozen in his tracks.

"What…?"

"I know what happened."

Draco sneered, "I should have figured. So what do you want? To black mail me?"

"I know a guy whose parents are there too … He saw you. No one else but him and I know. I mentioned to him that you'd changed over the summer, and he told me.  I'm not going to blackmail you, I just want to know why."

"Why? You could never understand Potter. Never. You have the perfect hero life. I'm the villain."

"I don't have the perfect life. I lived with the worst bunch of muggles until I was eleven. I didn't even know I was a wizard! I don't have parents because of what I am… Now tell me, how is that perfect?" Harry said.

"Save it for your autobiography."

"Make me understand."

"Understand what?" Draco asked, and pushed Harry.

"This!" he said, and grabbed Draco's wrist. *_I want to save you.*_

"There's nothing left to save. I don't need your help. I don't need anyone to understand… Especially not you. The only thing I want is for you to leave me alone. Stay the fuck away!" Draco yelled, he could feel the tears coming, and the desire to cut was becoming unbearable.

He crumbled, shaking and sobbing. He felt arms wrap around his body, a soothing voice, and a hand smoothing down his hair. 

He felt oddly safe being so close to Potter. And for the first time, in a long time, the cold darkness faded to into the background.


End file.
